


The Talk

by ArraFrost



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Fondue, M/M, Superfamily, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArraFrost/pseuds/ArraFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony give Peter "The Talk"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a prompt on tumblr.

Peter stretched, cracking his sore back as he walked through the door. It had been a long day at school and all he wanted to do was lie down and relax until the inevitable moment he'd have to gear up for crime fighting and torture his body again.

“Hey Pops.” He waved as he passed the living room, yawning and stretching once again as he continued. And then it hit him. The atmosphere. The tell tale sign that something had shifted in their family dynamic. Stepping backwards, he leaned into the living room taking in his father's position on the couch. Steve was sitting at attention, as though he were prepared for a briefing. The armchair was placed suspiciously in front of the television... directly in Steve's line of sight... Great.

Peter glanced between them, the awkward silence stretching further. “Yeah... so... I'm just gonna go fight some crime if that's cool.”

“Sit.” Steve ordered and Peter caught himself on the door frame he almost ran into trying to escape. Sighing, he ventured into the living room, taking up the seat in the armchair without being prompted.

“Did something-”

“There's something I need to discuss with you, Peter.”

“Wonderful...”

“Son. You're getting older now and there's certain responsibilities you're going to need to think of.”

Peter cocked his eyebrow at his father, who appeared to be struggling with a speech he'd prepared. “Like what? Washing Dad's cars? Pop, I'm fifteen. I'm a super hero. And I'm working as a photographer to battle my bad press. I think I'm good on the responsibility front.”

“Son... I found a condom under your bed this morning.”

Suddenly the wide, open living room was a lot smaller and Peter's throat was attempting to suffocate him. Was his blood trying to escape out his ears? His face felt incredibly hot. Did Steve have Jarvis turn up the temperature as some sort of interrogation technique?

“Care to explain?”

“I... it was... I just... Can't you just ground me and tell me to never do anything stupid and be done with this?”

“No.”

“Of course not...” Peter sighed, hanging his head. It could never be that easy when Captain America was your father. He could only hope that his other father knew nothing about this yet.

“I think it's time... we talked about this.”

Peter's head lifted of it's own accord, eyes wide, staring directly at his father's serious expression contrasted with bashful eyes.

“We always thought that... from what you'd been taught at school and how smart you are that we wouldn't have to really do this.”

“Oh god... Pop... don't do this.” Peter tried to ward off the embarrassment that this discussion was going to cause them. He wouldn't be able to look at his father for a few weeks if this kept going.

“Be honest with me Peter. Do you... fondue?”

“Do I  _what?”_ Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the word was certainly not what he was expecting to hear and at some point in the past eight hours, his father must have suffered catastrophic brain damage.

Steve merely kept his gaze, eyes suggestive when Peter failed to catch on.

“Oh... you mean...” Realization hit him like a freight train. “Oh god is that what that means? You and Dad... I can't know that!”

“Peter-”

“No! Every time Aunt Natasha came over to watch me when you guys went out for--  _Oh my god! No!_ ”

“Peter calm down.”

“Ugh!” His head was in his hands now, body shaking and unable to control any of his outbursts.

“Did you tell him yet?” Tony's voice rang through the room as he leaned in from the hallway, eyes concerned and smirk wide on his face.

“And  _you!”_ Peter growled, looking up from his lap and pointing an accusatory finger at Tony.

“What? Me? What's happened?” Tony glanced frantically between his husband and son trying to figure out why he was suddenly dropped into barren, unfamiliar land.

Peter didn't answer him, only continued to glare at him in disgust and shake any image that happened to pop up from his mind.

Steve coughed, blush already creeping into his cheeks. “Uh... fondue.”

“ _UGH!”_ Peter groaned, covering his ears from the repulsive word.

“Oooh.” Tony chuckled, despite his best effort to disguise his amusement. Turning to his husband, he tilted his head as he questioned Steve. “Did you actually say that instead of sex?”

“Yes! Yes he did!” Peter exclaimed, now attempting to hide his entire head within his hands.

“That's supposed to be our thing, Steve.” Tony pouted at Steve who had clearly lost his footing in this situation.

“You would call it something like that, Dad!”

Tony raised his hands up in defense. “Hey not me! That's from way back when Steve met your grandpa Stark.”

“Oh gross Pop!” Peter instantly turned on his other father who was blushing full tilt and glowering at Tony in astonishment.

“Not like that! I thought Howard and- Never mind, that's not what this is about.”

“No! Clearly it's about the fact that I can never eat melted cheese again!”

“Well you can also have chocolate fondue or caramel fondue-”

“Not helping!” Peter snapped at Tony, cutting him off.

“Look we just want you to be safe.” Steve tried desperately to get the conversation back on topic but was rewarded with an incredulous look from his son.

“From what? From creepy metaphors that cause me to rethink my childhood?”

“No... from-”

“STDs, STIs, whatever you want to call them nowadays. They're a thing that your Pop might not know much about from the old days but it's a prominent worry in the modern day.”

Peter was done, he folded over his lap, hands over his head, completely unable to process this conversation and wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole for the rest of his life.

“So are you having fondue?”

“For the love of- stop using that word! It doesn't mean what you think it means!”

Tony grinned, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Oh no, son. I think you're the confused one here. It means a variety of things-”

“That I never want to know!” Peter screamed, covering his ears once again.

“Fine. Catch.”

The bottle was out of Tony's hand and into Peter's without his son ever having to look up from his lap. Slowly, Peter brought his hand down to his eye level to see exactly what he was holding and dropped it to the floor immediately.

“DAD!” He shouted, raising his head in bewilderment. Tony couldn't have looked more pleased with himself. “Pop!” Quickly changing his tactics he turned to his other father, eyes pleading for an end to the humiliation.

Steve glanced down, observing the full bottle of water-based lube. “Tony.”

“Lube is a key element of fondue, everyone knows this.”

“Stop! Please, just stop talking.” Peter groaned, curling into himself.

“Lube, condoms and regular check-ups.” Tony continued in a more serious tone to which Peter nodded along with.

“Know your partner and never rush into anything you're not comfortable with.” Steve added on.

“Yes.” Peter nodded once more, finally sitting up straight in his chair. “Are we done now?”

Tony smirked as he and Steve exchanged glances. “Yeah that about sums it up.”

Without a single word, Peter bolted up from the chair with determination, wanting to be anywhere in the world that his parents weren't.

“So you think he's going to be having sex any time soon?” Steve asked, the grin spreading across his lips.

Tony laughed as he shook his head, shifting his gaze from the now empty hallway. “After that? He's not going to risk ever getting caught again.”


End file.
